


silent promises, whispered prayers

by A_Confused_Kitten



Series: Promises [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: #don't bury your gays, Angst, Canon Compliant, Castiel and Dean Winchester Have a Profound Bond, Dean Winchester Loves Castiel, Dean Winchester Prays to Castiel, Episode: s15e18 Despair, Episode: s15e18 Despair - Castiel's Confession Scene, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt No Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, There's A Tag For That, but if i have to emotionally die, i havent seen that in any of the s15e18 fics, i'm sorry guys, i'm takin y'all down with me, sam and cas are friend guys, this is entirely angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:15:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27430333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Confused_Kitten/pseuds/A_Confused_Kitten
Summary: Because Cas is gone.Taken from him because he is- because he was too damn noble, too damn selfless. Because he was Dean’s angel, his Cas, his stubborn friend who smiled brighter than the sun. Castiel, angel of Thursday, who was better than anyone else Dean has ever met.Castiel, who’s gone, the words I love you still ringing in his ears.Distantly, he notices that his phone is vibrating. Distantly, he notices Sam is calling him. Distantly, he finds himself on the floor, exhaustion seeping into his bones.~~Major spoilers for season 15 episode 18!!! If you haven't watched that, I highly recommend not reading this!!
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Series: Promises [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2023187
Comments: 14
Kudos: 173





	silent promises, whispered prayers

He’s numb.

It wasn’t supposed to end like this, not ever. It wasn’t supposed to end with a bloody handprint on his sleeve, one mirroring the scar from all those years ago. It wasn’t supposed to end with a sad smile and blue eyes misted over by tears. It wasn’t supposed to end like this.

It wasn’t supposed to end at all.

His body’s numb, and yet, his mind burning. 

Dean thought he’d already been through hell, and for years, those nightmares refused to fade. Nightmares of cutting into people as he _smiled,_ smiled as though he hadn’t known it was wrong. Or worse, the nightmares of the Mark, and what he’d done under the influence.

Bloody visions, more terrible than anything he could imagine, of an angel gone still, of a knife buried in a book, of leaving. Of things that made him sick to his stomach, because he had _done_ that, and in the moment, there hadn’t been even a hint of regret. 

But now?

Those nightmares are nothing compared to this. 

Because Cas is gone. 

Taken from him because he is- because he _was_ too damn noble, too damn selfless. Because he was Dean’s angel, his _Cas,_ his stubborn friend who smiled brighter than the sun. Castiel, angel of Thursday, who was better than anyone else Dean has ever met.

Castiel, who’s gone, the words _I love you_ still ringing in his ears.

Distantly, he notices that his phone is vibrating. Distantly, he notices Sam is calling him. Distantly, he finds himself on the floor, exhaustion seeping into his bones.

Dean knows what grief feels like. It’s somber and grey and cold. It’s rain falling on an overcast day, the soothing scent in the air betraying the bitterness he felt. It’s the sky you used to watch together, but something’s missing. 

This is different.

 _I love you._ He had said, and Dean wonders what it meant. He thinks about _I gripped you tight and raised you from perdition,_ and _I’ve rebelled, and I did it, all of it, for you._ He thinks about _I need you_ and _You changed me._

He thinks about Cas at the beginning of all of this, the Cas from years ago, who’s eyes were cold and harsh and who didn’t know how to care. Who would’ve killed hundreds just to prevent a seal from breaking. He thinks about Cas, who protected the innocent with everything he had left.

“I love you.” Cas had said, a tearful smile clouding beautiful eyes. It was a painful goodbye and a beautiful hello, and Dean couldn’t help the tears that slid down his cheeks.

Cas loved him.

Cas _loved_ him, and Dean had stood there, frozen, as the Empty snatched him away. 

Because Cas loved him back, and Dean hadn’t known what to do. So he said nothing, and now, there’s never going to be an opportunity to say it ever again. 

Sam is calling him again. 

Dean doesn’t answer.

How can he? How can he face his brother, let alone Jack, when tears run down his face and his throat is tight, and the words can’t seem to come out right. How can he face them, when he can’t even face himself?

Cas is gone, and some part of Dean is missing with him.

He doesn’t know why this is different. Cas has died before, Dean has _seen_ him die before. Has held his body close as wings were burned into loose sand, ashes spilling into his lap. Cas has died, _for them,_ more times than he can count. 

It’s never hurt like this.

It hurt, an aching throb in his chesty that never seemed to fade away, the angel never leaving his mind. Because Cas always comes back. He’s been killed by archangels, overtaken by leviathans, possessed by Lucifer, but he always comes back.

Always.

But this time…

Castiel has never said goodbye before.

But he’s never done anything like that before. He’s never had the chance to. His _happiness_ was his undoing, and that will forever be a weight upon Dean’s shoulders. 

He _loved_ Dean, shouted his love to the world like a bold proclamation, shouted it to the Heavens, and in that moment, when he knew what he had brought upon himself, and-

Cas smiled.

Faced with the end of his life, Castiel _smiled._

And Dean? He had only watched.

The memories won’t leave his mind, whispering and screaming that _“You could have done something!”_ and _“Why didn’t you tell him? Why didn’t you say I love you back?”_

Because that is the truth. 

Dean loved Cas more than he thought possible. He’s always thought that Cas was an _angel,_ a holy being who’d never feel the same way. Because even if Cas had called himself broken, had thought himself to be undeserving and incomplete, Dean would always love him.

He chokes on a laugh, the sound harsh and bitter, a sharp contrast to the tears still falling. They’d both been too self-loathing to see it, too selfless. After all, if the world was in danger, then why should they matter? Why should their _feelings,_ feelings that couldn’t _possibly_ be returned, matter?

A part of him wonders if they had just _talked_ to one another, if they had only said the truth, if Cas would be gone. If he would have been desperate enough to trade his life for Jack’s. If they could have found another way.

But it’s too late for what-ifs. 

It’s too late to wonder what could have gone differently. Too late to imagine all the things Dean could have said, too late to wonder how it’d feel to run his fingers through Cas’ hair, too late to imagine holding him close. 

It’s too late to wonder when Cas fell for him, and wonder when he fell for Cas. Maybe it was all the way back in the Apocalypse, when they’d been willing to die together, or maybe it was after the Fall, when Dean was too busy worrying about Sam to even care and-

He tries. 

Dean _tries_ to picture loving Cas, and Cas loving him back. Tries to picture what life should have looked like, because _this wasn’t supposed to happen._

 _None of this_ was supposed to happen.

And the tears start falling faster, and Dean doesn’t even try to hold them back, because he just doesn’t care anymore. Sam hasn’t stopped calling him, and maybe something's wrong at the safe spot, but Dean just doesn’t _care_.

How could he? 

His angel is gone.

Dean doesn’t know how long he sits there, numb to the chill. Numb to everything except the thoughts flooding his mind. He doesn’t know how long he stays there, until he hears Sam yelling, calling his name and shouting, and he knows he should answer.

He doesn’t have the energy to.

“Dean?” His brother asks, cautiously. “Dean, what’s wrong-”

And isn’t that the question of the day? His angel is gone, and all that remains is a bloody handprint on his sleeve. “Cas is gone.”

Sam inhales, a sharp sound that seems to echo. It’s as though the bunker itself knows that something is wrong, that something is missing. _“What?”_

And Dean laughs, a bitter and dark chuckle. “He’s gone, Sammy. I couldn’t-” 

Words fail him, and Sam doesn’t hesitate to pull him to a tight hug. It’s warm and comforting and soft but all Dean feels is cold. Cold because a fire inside him has been doused, and Dean doesn’t know how to fix it.

“I couldn’t stop it.” He whispers, and his brother hugs him tighter. “I couldn’t even move.”

And it’s not fair for him to be doing this. Not when Eileen had died only hours ago, and Sam was holding himself back from mourning for. Not when he’s supposed to be strong for Sam.

Not when he failed to protect Cas.

“You don’t need to tell me-” Sam says, slowly, and for a moment, there is silence. For a moment, his head throbs because the bunker isn’t made for _quiet_.

It’s made for loud celebration, for late nights spent with a family desperate for connection. It’s for intimate moments and strategic ones. It;s for holding your loved ones close and never wanting to let go. It’s for family, and family don’t end in blood but-

“He said he loved me.” Dean says, and Sam falls silent. “He made a deal with the Empty to bring Jack back.” And Sam goes still. “He got Jack back, but the moment he was content, the Empty would take him back.”

“And he said he loved you.”

He takes a shuddering breath, and he nods. “Billie was going to kill us. Cas said he had one option left.” Another laugh, cold and empty, oh so _empty._ “Sammy, he said he loved me, and I didn’t even get a chance to say it back. And now he’s _gone,_ Sam, he’s gone.”

He can feel his little brother trembling, his tall form shaking against Dean’s own, because Cas was his friend, too. Because Cas wasn’t just _his_ angel, he was Sam’s best friend, and he was Jack’s father. Because Cas was more than a friend, he was a brother and a partner and one of the best damn things that had ever happened to him and-

Cas had said that Dean had changed him, that _Dean_ was the one who made him care for the world, and he remembers words from years ago, fragments saying _Dean and I do share a more profound bond_ and he wonders, wonders if Cas had loved him all those years ago.

But Cas had changed him too.

Had made him softer, somehow, in ways Dean doesn’t even know how to describe. No one’s ever made Dean _feel_ like Cas had, not that strongly. No one else had made him happy and angry and scared and _loved._

And honestly, Dean doesn’t know how to live without it.

He doesn’t know how to live without Cas’ gentle touch and his softly spoken words. Without his constant presence by his side, because for a decade, it’s been one of the few things that have remained the same. No matter what challenges they faced, Dean knew Cas would always be by their side.

But now he’s gone forever and Dean had stood there and _watched_ -

No.

He had never given up on them before, so Dean sure as hell wasn’t going to give up on Cas.

Because Cas had raised them both from Hell, at a price that they still know nothing about, and without him, they would have died years ago.

_I’m the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition._

_No._

It isn’t going to end like this.

Dean won’t let it.

 _I’m going to tell him,_ he vows, because he won’t let it end in any other way. It’s too late to wish for a happy ending, too late for any of them to even hope for one. But that’s not what Dean’s asking for.

All he wants to hear is that they _lived._

Because this time, Dean Winchester isn’t the one who died for love. He wasn’t the one to make the sacrifice, the one to give it all away with a smile, just for the _chance_ of someone else’s happiness.

Because this time, Dean is _furious._ He’s furious and there’s nothing in the world that can stop him. His angel is gone, the light to his dark is missing. Sam won’t fight him, not on this, never on this. 

Anger coils inside his chest, and he thinks of what Cas had told him. Of Cas calling him loving and caring and selfless, a mirror opposite of the jagged storm locked away, the monster hidden inside his ribcage.

_Castiel,_ he prays, _Cas._

 _I don’t know if you can hear me. Hell, I don’t even know if you’re alive. But I’m comin’ for you, Cas, and you better believe I’m going to find you. Because you are the strongest person I’ve ever met, and I can’t live without you. I love you, okay, I love every part of you. Because you’re not broken or incomplete, like the rest of the angels say. You’re the reason we’re still here, and dammit Cas, hold on._ Please, _wait for me. One last time, wait for me._

_You raised me from Hell, and it's time to return the favor._

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there, my darling readers.
> 
> Please don't kill me. :3


End file.
